Hero's Gauntlet A Tale of Redwall
by Kapp
Summary: This is an old tale of Redwall, detailing the adventures of a mouse hero, a ferret warrior, a weasel warlord, and the peaceful creatures of Redwall abbey. This is also my first story, so, don't hate! Rated T for the fact that it deals with slavery, violence, and all that.


Playful Dibbuns giggled as they entered the gatehouse for story time. Inside, Old Lura the mousewife was waiting, a dusty, but large book was in her handpaws. She was once the recorder of Redwall abbey, but now she was only the caretaker of the Dibbuns, and official self-appointed story teller. She raised a paw to her mouth, signalling silence. The Dibbuns stopped their laughter, and Lura opened the book to a page, marked by a red silk bookmark. With a cough, she began to read.

Night was descending on the island fortress of the Blood Lord, Kurgg the Slayer. Various creatures of the vermin sort were patrolling the grey stone walls, armed with spears, shields, and short swords. Some were clad lightly in pale red tunics with chainmail sleeves, and stumpy, Norman style iron helmets. Others wore full iron armour and chainmail, with heavy frogmouth helms or steel circlets with hanging mail. They had dyed their fur a red colour, although it had faded, tinting them crimson. Inside the walls there was a large, flat area, in which two wooden barracks' and some beige stone houses had been constructed. Beyond them was a keep, made of the same grey stone as the walls, with bits of wood and beige stone here and there. It was in this keep that the weasel warlord Kurgg sat, slumped on a throne, a great sword at his feet and a piece of partially chewed meat in his handpaw. At first glance, anybeast not in service to the warlord would have said he was in a deep sleep. But those he commanded could easily tell that their chieftain was as ready and alert as any fully awake and rested creature. Most dared not enter his chamber, as they knew if he were disturbed, he would snatch up his blade and slay them then and there. Only ten were allowed in without his permission, those were his high captain Valkyr, the seer-rat Thell, and his eight lieutenants.

In fact, it was at this time Valkyr entered the room from a door next to the throne, halberd held across his chest. He was a tall ferret, dressed in a silk tunic and pants, with a scarf on his neck. He had none of his heavy armour on. Kurgg nodded in his general direction, having no need to speak and waste his voice. Valkyr informed him quickly, "Your lordship, the scouts have returned. They have news of the red castle, and the sword. And they have brought a captive." Upon these words, the front door swung inwards, and two stoats lumbered inward, dragging with them a chained mouse. The mouse was wearing a green habit, and an empty black leather scabbard…

Outside the barracks, a stoat in full armour, guarded two foot soldiers, was addressing roughly fourscore vermin, who wore primitive war paint and dirty clothes, with rough leather armour. They were captives, taken from an enemy horde. They had been tricked into attacking the supposedly empty island, only to realize that three hundred of Kurgg's soldiers were waiting. Half their force was slain instantly by arrows and throwing spears, a quarter slain later in combat, and this quarter captured. They knew of the ruthlessness of Kurgg, but the need he had for soldiers. Many of his troops had been killed in his blood stained crusades. They hoped he would have some use for them, muttering amongst themselves, debating the situation. The stoat called for silence with his paw, and muttered to his guards. They brought forth a marten, the captain of those who were imprisoned. The stoat spoke. "You have made yourselves enemies of the Marauders, enemies of Kurgg! This is how our foes pay!" Drawing his sword, he held up the marten with his paw, and ran him through, the blade piercing his back, shoving itself through the prisoner's chest. He looked down in horror, and tried to gasp, but was interrupted as his head slumped forwards and his eyes glazed over. The stoat dropped the stinking corpse that was already attracting flies. The enemy hordebeasts whimpered. The stoat spoke again. "You have one chance, foes. Don uniforms and red dye. If you join our horde, you will be spared. If not, you can meet your end, here and now, at the point of a pike." There had never been a faster run than that of the vermin, racing to the waiting uniforms, unwilling to die.


End file.
